One, lone entity in search of something more.

A culmination of past experiences. Of a saint and of a whore.

Wanting no one to understand, but still share in life’s story.

Please don’t look at me, but see me- grasping for some glory.

The sum of all my parts an unsolvable equation.

Muddling through the hours of every new occasion.

Longing for relationship, but joyful on my own.

The dichotomy confuses.

It may be better when I’m grown.


T L Harty 11/2/2019  50 yrs old

2 thoughts on “Self”

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